A Match made in Seven continued
by Sam C
Summary: Continued from "A Match made in Seven". New story due to higher content rating. J/7 romance, please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

**This is a continuation from "A Match made in Seven". If you haven't read that, this won't make a lot of sense at first.**

**Contains scenes of a sexual nature between two women. If you don't like that, don't read this story. **

**Paramount owns the characters. **

**Please don't repost any of the story elsewhere unless you ask for and receive permission from me.**

A Match made in Seven continued

Janeway and Seven-of-Nine walked slowly back to the cabins. Light glowed from the windows, welcoming and warm. They entered the cabin that Janeway was to share with the Doctor and found the hologram at a computer console in the main room.

"Ah, welcome back. How was the sunset?" asked the Doctor, not looking up from the screen he was peering at intently.

"It was lovely, Doctor. You should come along next time," replied Janeway, moving to a cupboard and extracting a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "Care for a nightcap, Seven?" she asked, and the Borg nodded.

"Let's go into my room, leave the Doctor to his -" she peered over his shoulder "medical journals."

"Before you go, Captain, I've arranged for your first session with a Ventosan doctor tomorrow morning, 08:00 hours. I've checked into his records and credentials and they are exemplary."

Janeway nodded her thanks. She entered her bedroom and the blonde followed, closing the door behind them.

"Captain, do you wish to have relations of a sexual nature?" said Seven with her customary bluntness. Janeway, used to her friend's forthright attitude, barely batted an eyelid. She looked up after pouring two generous measures of the fragrant amber liquid.

"No, Seven," she said softly, pausing before she carried on speaking. "We agreed to take things slowly, and you've told me that you're…concerned about intimacy. I don't want to push you; let's move one step at a time, hmm?"

The Borg took the glass that Janeway handed to her and hesitantly took a sip. Alcohol, even in small amounts, affected her motor functions considerably, and she didn't want to lose control.

"And what would such 'steps' consist of, Captain?" enquired Seven, raising one eyebrow. Janeway wasn't sure if Seven was serious or if she was teasing her, but she decided to answer as though the latter was true.

"It varies – let's just wait and see, shall we?"

Janeway sat on the bed, sipping her whiskey. As she was walking back from the lake, it had occurred to her that not once had Seven initiated any contact between them; it had always been Janeway herself who reached out to the Borg. She wondered if she was pushing too hard, though she couldn't imagine Seven-of-Nine allowing anything to happen that she didn't want to do. Maybe it was because Seven was totally inexperienced with relationships; she simply didn't know how to go about it, though Janeway knew she had studied human mating rituals thoroughly.

"Captain? Kathryn?" Seven's voice intruded on Janeway's musings and she smiled, looking up into the ice blue eyes of her companion. The Captain raised her glass and drained the remaining liquid, placing the empty vessel on a bedside table. She ran her hands through her thick, auburn hair and stifled a yawn.

"Well, time to turn in, I think. See you in the morning, Seven." Janeway didn't budge, though, but remained sitting on the bed. Rather than moving to hug the younger woman, she decided to hold back and wait for Seven to make the next move. For a moment the women looked at each other, then the Borg inclined her head, turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Janeway feeling half-upset, half-amused. "I suppose I asked for that," she muttered to herself.

**************

Dr. Berdan, the Ventosan who was treating Janeway, was an elderly, kindly man whom Janeway was inclined to trust instantly. He had the gentle manner of doctors throughout the galaxy, a knowledgeable smile and a professional bearing. The Captain was unimpressed that he had insisted on a full physical check-up prior to beginning to treat her psychologically, but he assured her that it was standard practice. It was no more than mildly unpleasant and soon completed.

"Well, Captain, there's nothing wrong with your physical health; you appear to be in excellent shape," Berdan said, smiling at Janeway across a small, wooden table. "Your Doctor was correct in that respect. Let us now focus on your mind. As you know, we are a telepathic species; however, we can only usually sense the feelings of individuals from other species. I'd like to enhance that connection by giving you a little injection."

Janeway raised her hands, stopping the Ventosan as he reached for an implement similar to a hypospray. "Whoa there, Doctor. I need a bit more information than that!"

"I will inject you with a neurological agent that will increase your receptiveness to telepathy. I won't be able to read your thoughts as such, however I should be able to receive strong images that I will prompt you to think about. By helping you to interpret and manipulate these images, the conflict in your mind will resolve itself. You can stop the process at any time by simply requesting it or leaving the room. You will come to no harm, Captain."

Janeway lowered her hands and nodded once, feeling a light tingling in her neck as she received the injection.

"Let us begin," started Dr. Berdan.

****************

Voyager's Doctor, Seven-of-Nine and Naomi strolled through the woods that bordered the lake, the girl chattering non-stop. Several times the Doctor had warned her about touching unknown species of plants, and when she presented him with a blistering hand, trying not to cry, he squatted down in front of her and spoke seriously,

"Naomi, please be more careful. We don't know what harmful species may live on this planet; some that are harmless to the Ventosans may be deadly to you. Don't touch anything else!"

Naomi bit her lip, nodding. The hologram smiled, healing the skin with a dermal regenerator. It didn't deter the girl's enthusiasm, though, and when she saw a tree with plentiful, low-hanging branches, she ran to it and began to climb. Seven scanned the tree with a tricorder. "No indication of dangerous chemicals, Doctor."

"No, just the danger of a broken neck. Come down from there, Naomi."

"Come on up, Seven, it's fun!" giggled the child, scampering fearlessly among the branches.

Seven raised her eyebrow.

"I think not. Let us continue our walk, Naomi Wildman."

The girl slid down to the ground and held her hands out towards the Borg. She hesitated before swinging Naomi up onto her slender yet powerful shoulders, and the three walked on. Before long, the young girl began to fall asleep and Seven carefully lifted her down to carry the little form securely in her arms.

"You've been awfully quiet, Seven. Are you…concerned about the Captain?"

"I am not. The Ventosan doctor is an expert in his field. I expect that Captain Janeway will make a full and prompt recovery," replied Seven quietly, striding ahead so that the Doctor had to almost break into a trot to keep up.

"Did you speak with her about what we discussed yesterday?" asked the hologram, telling himself he was asking out of a care for Seven's well-being and not simply prying. He lightly grasped the young woman's arm, stopping her and turning her to face him.

"I did. The Captain attempted to reassure me on that matter."

"And did she? Reassure you, I mean?"

"No. I am unsure that I wish to engage in intimate activities. I find the idea of relinquishing control to another individual alien to me."

The Doctor regarded his friend as she stood uncomfortably in front of him. For once, he was lost for words. Eventually, he spoke, careful to keep his tone as light as possible.

"It will seem strange to you now, Seven, like all the other things you have learned since leaving the collective. But if, with someone you love, you can truly let yourself go, the connection between you will be deeper than any other. And I believe it can be extremely pleasurable, too," he added dryly.

"Pleasure is irrelevant," came the reply, and the Doctor threw his eyes to the heavens. He should've seen that one coming.

"I doubt Captain Janeway thinks so, and you may change your mind, too, if you allow yourself to express your feelings for a nanosecond. The Captain is alone, and a few days ago the pressures she is feeling nearly killed her. She may not know it yet, but she needs you, Seven. Don't be afraid to reach out to her."

The young woman, girl and hologram made their way back to the cabins, where Seven put Naomi gently in her bed and drew the covers over her.

**********

Images flitted through Janeway's mind, ones she had suppressed for five long years. Voyager, crashed. Voyager, heavily damaged and drifting lifelessly in space. Her crew dead, injured, sick, missing. Chakotay, a fatal wound draining the life from him. Paris, desperately crawling from a mangled shuttlecraft. Seven-of-Nine, assimilated once again. Seven, lifeless in Janeway's arms.

"Stop!" she shouted, unable to take any more. "Please, stop," she sobbed, holding her head in her hands.

"It's ok, Kathryn. You're safe here. It's not real. Look at me. Look at me!" said Dr. Berdan, and Janeway lifted her head, cheeks streaked with tears. "You must confront your fears, or they will destroy you. You have a strong mind, Kathryn, a great intellect and a fighting spirit. I had to make you see your demons."

Janeway regained control, wiping her face with her shirt sleeve and meeting the doctor's eyes. "How will that help?" she demanded, fixing her trademark glare on Berdan who looked back with a kindly smile, totally unfazed by the blue-grey eyes locked onto his.

"You take the weight of all your worries on your shoulders, Kathryn. Tomorrow we will work on altering the way your mind processes the fears you have shown today. Who is the woman?"

Janeway frowned, confused. "What woman?" she asked, sitting up straighter in her chair.

"The young, light-haired woman with the curious metal adornments."

"Her name is Seven-of-Nine. We rescued her from the Borg. She's a fine crewmember and a friend." Janeway said this matter-of-factly, having no wish to discuss Seven with this stranger, doctor or not.

"I sense that there are difficulties there, Kathryn. You must think carefully and make a decision. Either commit yourself to what your heart wants, or walk away, for the conflict is adding to that which you already face."

"I – I don't know what you mean. We're not…I mean, it's complicated." Janeway struggled to find the words she was looking for.

Dr. Berdan smiled. "Kathryn, your love for this woman shines brighter than our two suns. Consider what I have said, and we will speak further tomorrow. Now," he continued, standing and briskly clapping his hands together, "I'll show you back to the transport site. Take care, my dear."

Janeway had little choice but to follow.

***************

"So, how did it go," asked the Doctor of Janeway, who was sitting at the computer console in their cabin with a steaming mug of coffee. She had already burned her fingers twice, having become so accustomed to her usual insulated, double-walled metal mug that she kept grabbing the Ventosan ceramic mug around the middle, forgetting it would be hot.

"You'd better ask Dr. Berdan, I haven't a clue. I don't really feel like talking about it, Doctor, if you don't mind."

"Mind? Why should I mind? You're only MY patient, after all," he replied, somewhat huffily. "What are you doing, anyway, you're on shore leave, remember? You're not supposed to be looking at star charts or warp drive schematics!"

"Relax, Doctor," said Janeway, waving a hand towards the hologram, "I'm just passing time until we can pick up our boat. You are joining us for fishing, aren't you?"

"There's something rather…barbaric about enticing living organisms to snare themselves on a pointed metal hook using other previously living organisms as bait. I think I'll pass, thank you. 'Do no harm', remember?" The Doctor picked up a PADD and tapped a few buttons. "I'm working on a new holonovel, I think I'll use the peace and quiet to write another chapter."

"As you wish, Doctor. Right," Janeway continued, standing up and finishing her coffee, "I'd better get the equipment together and round up the troops. Have fun."

"You too, Captain."

Janeway headed to a small shed at the rear of the cabins where she had stored fishing rods that she had acquired the previous day. Along with other necessary accessories she carried them to the lakeside where Seven and Naomi were carrying out a botanical survey.

"Captain, are we going fishing now?" asked Naomi excitedly, running over to Janeway with Seven following more sedately behind.

"We sure are," Janeway answered, handing Naomi a rod to carry that was bigger than the girl herself. Seven reached out and took a case from Janeway and they ambled along the path to the boathouse. Naomi as usual was some way ahead, and Seven turned to Janeway and spoke quietly.

"I wish to enquire as to the nature of your treatment."

"I don't want to talk about it, Seven," replied Janeway, equally quietly to prevent the girl ahead of them from hearing.

***************

The Doctor was irritable when he finally managed to communicate with Dr. Berdan. The Ventosans, though unfailingly polite, were a bureaucratic race, and the hologram had to go through four other people before he was allowed to talk to Janeway's doctor. Finally, the Ventosan appeared on the console's screen.

"Dr. Berdan, I presume," said the Doctor sardonically, leaning towards the screen. "I'm Voyager's Chief Medical Officer. I wanted to ask you about Captain Janeway's treatment and prognosis."

"Good to speak with you, Doctor…?"

"Just Doctor, I'm too busy to choose a name. How long will the treatment last?"

The old Ventosan smiled, steepling his fingers under his plump chin. "As long as it lasts, Doctor. I'm afraid I can't say for sure at this stage. Your Captain is suffering from severe psychological trauma brought on by a variety of factors. Her reluctance to share the burden of command, her recent near-fatal accident, her guilt over stranding Voyager here, her unresolved feelings for the woman, Seven-of-Nine. However, despite the severity of her condition, I have no doubt that she will make a full recovery, with my help."

"Is there anything I can be doing in the meantime?"

"Stop giving her the medication. I know -" he held his hand up to ward off the Doctor's protests, "I know it has helped her up to now, but Kathryn needs to experience the conflict in order to work through it. Suppressing it won't help matters in the long run. Encourage her to talk about her feelings – does she trust you, Doctor?"

The hologram adopted an irritated expression. "Of course she trusts me, I'm her doctor! I may just be photons and force fields to you, but the Captain sees me as a person, a friend."

Dr. Berdan unclasped his hands and placed them flat on the desk in front of him. In a solemn voice he replied. "Foremost in the Captain's mind, right now, is her relationship with the fair-haired woman. I don't know why yet, but she is linking the success or failure of her interactions with Seven-of-Nine to her ability to perform as the Captain of a ship desperately trying to get home. Whether the relationship is cemented or whether it is ended is unimportant – the conflict must be resolved. Focus on that, Doctor."

"Thank you, Dr. Berdan. I'll do what I can, though the Captain is a force of nature all by herself, and as for Seven-of-Nine – let's say I'd bet on her against a force ten ion storm any day. Keep me informed."


	2. Chapter 2

Naomi Wildman had had a fascinating day. Spent with the two people she loved most of all, after her mother and Neelix of course, she had learned a lot. How to fish, for one thing; she caught a small, edible fish which she now proudly carried wrapped in wet leaves. The adults thought she didn't know what was going on, but to her it was obvious. Captain Janeway, who risked her life to rescue Seven-of-Nine, loved the Borg woman, and Seven – though she hid it better than the Captain – loved Janeway.  
Naomi glanced back at the two women, who were walking alongside each other in silence. 'Why can't they just say what they feel,' thought Naomi. She had no idea that the Doctor, back in his cabin, was thinking exactly the same thing.

The three reached the cabins and meal preparations got underway. Janeway, being completely hopeless at cooking despite its similarity to chemistry ("You simply take ingredients, prepare them then combine them in a prescribed way", said the Doctor), left the others to prepare the food and wandered off a little way into the woods. Growing up on farmland she had become used to open spaces, yet the feeling of being surrounded by tall trees made her feel safe, rather than stifled. She found a convenient fallen log and sat on it, bringing her head to her knees. Janeway had contemplated Dr. Berdan's words all day, and still she was unsure.

"Captain, may I join you?"

The Doctor appeared out of nowhere, startling the currently-relieved-of-duty Captain. He approached with confidence and plonked his holographic form next to Janeway.

"How's my favourite patient?" he asked, pulling out a medical tricorder. Janeway scowled at her Chief Medical Officer.

"She's just fine, but she'd rather be alone right now," replied the Captain acerbically, glancing meaningfully at the tricorder. The Doctor put it away hastily, having already seen what he needed. Janeway's hormone and neurotransmitter levels were high and rising, and he approximated that it would be less than an hour before his Captain succumbed to the effects.

"I spoke with Dr. Berdan, as you suggested, Captain. He is certain that you will recover, in time; however, he requested that I stop giving you the medication, so that you can 'confront your fears' or something of that ilk."

"Fine," answered Janeway distractedly. She was still thinking about what Berdan had said about Seven-of-Nine – make a decision, one way or another. What should she do? Tuvok had convinced her that there was a minimal risk of repercussions from Starfleet. Why shouldn't she have a relationship with Seven? Janeway turned to the Doctor and smiled weakly.

"Sorry, Doctor, I was thinking…about Seven. Dr. Berdan told me I need to…make a choice, about her."

"He told me the same thing." The Doctor watched Janeway closely as she looked away from him and leaned her chin on her cupped hands.

"Captain - Kathryn, listen to me. I may not be telepathic but I have the combined knowledge of all the Federation's medical databases, plus a few others we've picked up along the way. But most important of all, I know you. You're hurting, and it's obvious that our Borg friend can help you. She loves you, Captain."

"I know."

"Do you love her?"

"I don't know."

************

"Chakotay to Janeway."

Janeway paused half way through demolishing a tasty grilled fish. "Go ahead," she replied.

"Just wondered how you were doing," said Voyager's Acting Captain. Janeway stood and, excusing herself, left the cabin and walked towards the lake.

"Fine, Captain. You picked a beautiful planet for shore leave." In the fading sunlight it was indeed beautiful, the snow on the mountains reflecting the yellow/orange light of the setting second sun.

"How're you doing, Kathryn?" asked Chakotay softly. Janeway paused.

"Can you beam here for a minute? I'd like to talk to you, if you're not too busy." She said it quickly, before she had a chance to change her mind. Although Tuvok was her oldest friend aboard Voyager, she and Chakotay had become close, and whilst Tuvok provided logic, her former First Officer was more…human.

"Give me a minute, I'll be right there. Chakotay out."

Janeway waited, until finally a transporter beam appeared and Chakotay materialised, wearing casual clothing and a large, wide-brimmed hat which he removed on catching Janeway's amused look. The former Captain led the Acting Captain to a sheltered area to the side of the cabins, where they both sat, facing each other.

"So, how're you doing, Kathryn?" repeated Chakotay, grinning. He took Janeway's hand in his and squeezed gently. Kathryn Janeway returned the gesture.

"I'm not sure. I wondered if I could ask your advice, as a friend?" Janeway clarified her request, not wanting either a First Officer's or a commanding officer's advice. Chakotay nodded.

"I saw the Ventosan doctor today. It was…frightening, Chakotay. But he can help me, I'm sure of it. I may need to actually take some time off once in a while -" Chakotay smiled, "but I'll be fine. There's just one thing…"

"Let me guess. Seven-of-Nine?"

Janeway sighed, fiddling with the cuff on her shirt sleeve. Raising her head, she looked into the large man's brown eyes. "Yes. Dr. Berdan told me that I have to…resolve the issue. Chakotay, I can't just abandon all my principles as a Starfleet Captain!"

"You wouldn't have to, in theory. Seven's not exactly Starfleet issue, Kathryn. And they couldn't hold it against you for wanting companionship when we're alone in the Delta Quadrant. That's not what you're worried about, is it?"

"I guess not. She's so naïve, Chakotay; I don't want to take advantage of that."

Chakotay snorted, then laughed. "Naïve? She was a Borg drone! She has the assimilated knowledge of thousands of species. She's new to being human, but she knows more about life than you do. True, she hasn't experienced it for herself yet, but…"

"So are you saying I should continue a relationship with her?" asked Janeway insistently. She wanted a straight answer, she wanted her friend to give his approval, and Janeway waited for the reply.

"Yes, Kathryn. For both your sakes." Chakotay rose and hugged Kathryn briefly.

"Chakotay to Voyager. One to beam up." He disappeared, and Janeway finally made up her mind.

The Captain intended to rise from her seat on the damp log and go straight to see Seven-of-Nine, but she found her legs wouldn't move. She leaned back into a bush, breathing deeply, Suddenly, the images she had experienced earlier in Dr. Berdan's office came flooding back without warning, so real that Janeway could taste the smoke on Voyager's burning bridge. She saw again the horrific fate of her crew, and stood alone on her crippled ship, her breath caught in her throat. Trying desperately to escape from the visions, she managed to slap her comm badge, gasping for breath. The sights and sounds were all around her.

"Doctor, help…" was all she could manage before she collapsed in a heap on the hard ground, crying uncontrollably.

**************

Janeway awoke gradually, a series of steps leading to consciousness. Even before she opened her eyes she felt a hand gripping hers tightly, and she weakly squeezed it. Struggling against a grey cloud in her brain, she used the hand to pull herself up to a sitting position, then opened her eyes. The Doctor hovered over her, scanning with a medical tricorder, whilst Seven-of-Nine – the owner of the hand – looked on.

"Lie down, Captain," she heard, and another hand pushed her firmly back down onto the bed.

"Doctor," she said, her voice croaking with the dryness of her throat. "Am I all right?"

"You will be, if you lie still, otherwise we might have to use force," he replied, continuing the scans. The chemical imbalance had subsided a little for now, but he was sure that it was only a matter of hours before the next recurrence, and the Doctor wondered privately if he should be listening to the alien doctor.

"You're in no danger, Captain, for now. But I won't allow you to be left alone. Either myself or Seven will have to keep watch over you tonight."

"I will watch the Captain, Doctor," Seven interjected immediately. "I do not require either regeneration or sleep for another forty-eight hours. What are your instructions?"

The Doctor inspected the tricorder then shrugged. "I'm not supposed to give her medication, so your guess is as good as mine. Talk to her, give her fluids every few hours and -" he leaned close to Seven's ear, "be nice."

He strode out of the room, leaving Seven sitting on the bed next to a semi-conscious Janeway. The Borg still held her friend's hand and drew it closer to her, willing warmth into the older woman's body.

"Captain, can you hear me?" demanded Seven, leaning over the seemingly tiny form. There was no reply. "I…wanted to speak with you. About our…relationship," said Seven, hesitant even though this was more of a practice run since Janeway couldn't hear.

"The Doctor has explained the nature of relationships to me. I wish to experience that with you," continued the Borg, running her free hand up Janeway's pale arm.

"I will not let you die, Kathryn," whispered Seven, releasing Janeway's hand and gripping her shoulders tightly. She felt like using one of the expletives she had heard from the Captain previously, but resisted, at least out loud. In her mind she told the galaxy to get f****d.

"I heard that," murmured Janeway's voice with an amused lilt. Seven sat up straight and gazed at the Captain, confused. She knew that she hadn't uttered the words she was thinking. Janeway's eyes were still closed, so there was no way she could have lip-read Seven's words.

"Captain, I did not realise you were awake," said Seven. Janeway didn't move, and for a moment the Borg thought she was asleep again, but then the older woman answered.

"Shouldn't swear, you know. Old Earth habit. Only words, true, collections of letters, but…" Janeway's voice petered out as she slumped down to the bed. Seven, using her intuition as well as her knowledge of Ventosans, assumed correctly that the Ventosan doctor had increased Janeway's telepathic abilities. Combined with Seven's Borg-enhanced neural cortex, it was clear that Janeway had sensed her thoughts.

An hour or so later, Janeway awoke again, more coherent this time and able to sit up unaided, which she did quickly, steadied by Seven.

"Ok, what happened this time," Janeway said jokingly, nudging the Borg with her elbow. The Captain looked into Seven's eyes and found them hard, commanding.

"You fainted, by the lake. The Doctor retrieved you. Are you feeling all right?"

"I spoke to Chakotay, then he beamed back to Voyager. Are YOU all right, Seven?" Janeway asked with concern, noting streaks of mud and blood on the blonde's face and her torn left sleeve. Then, realising that it was probably her who had done the damage, Janeway lay back down and turned her head away.

Slowly, so that Seven wouldn't notice, she reached her hand down the side of the bed to where she had hidden a phaser. She gripped it, feeling the cool weight in her hand, knowing she had set it to the 'kill' setting, and made a final decision. Janeway whipped out the weapon and turned it to her head, wincing in anticipation as she pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. She closed her eyes, feeling strong fingers remove the weapon from her grasp.

"It would appear that I anticipated correctly, Captain," stated the younger woman, discarding the weapon she had disabled earlier and shifting closer to a shaking Janeway, lying down on the bed behind the Captain and moving towards her so that the length of their bodies were touching. Seven reached one arm around Janeway and pushed the other underneath the Captain's head.

"Remember, Kathryn: I will not let you die," whispered Seven, gripping Janeway tightly across her shoulders and waist, wrapping her legs around the Captain's as she struggled, whimpering, then shouting, swearing, fighting. The Borg held her as she sank into unconsciousness once more, and together they waited out the night.


	3. Chapter 3

When Janeway awoke she smelled coffee, a mug of which had been thrust under her nose. She accepted it gratefully, wondering why Seven was in her room but realising that as they were both fully clothed, it was unlikely that anything had happened between them. The Captain sipped from the mug, suddenly noticing that it was her own and not Ventosan. Seven must have had it transported from Voyager. She looked up at the Borg who stood over her.

"Morning," she greeted, pushing herself up with her free arm.

"Your appointment with the Ventosan doctor is in less than ten minutes. I apologise for having to wake you."

Janeway waved it away, taking another swig of coffee. She looked at the younger woman, noting that her shirt was dirty and there was a dark, reddish-brown stain on the collar. "Did I hurt you, Seven?" she asked, reaching out and touching the offending article.

"It was nothing. The Doctor healed me." Seven-of-Nine took the mug from Janeway and moved towards the door. "Eight minutes, Captain." She left, shutting the door behind her.

Janeway was only six minutes late when she transported to Dr. Berdan's building. She had showered and changed in record time, ignored the reproachful looks from the Doctor and Seven and run to the transport site. As the doctor ushered her into his office, she braced herself for what she knew was coming.

**************

Seven and Naomi transported to the ski centre, having arranged to take a lesson as neither of them had done it before. The ski suits they hired were made of an unfamiliar biopolymer that was no thicker than a summer blouse, yet worn over their normal clothing it regulated their body heat and maintained their temperature at an optimum level.

The Doctor had transported to Voyager in order to treat Ensign Kim who had survived the perils of surfing and motorboat racing only to slip on the stairs outside his hotel room, spraining an ankle in the process. After discharging Harry, Voyager's Chief Medical Officer sat down in his office and began to download notes and information onto a PADD for his upcoming conference with the Ventosan Medical Council.

When Janeway arrived back at the cabin, her head throbbing, she found herself alone. She knew it wouldn't be long before Seven-of-Nine and Naomi returned, as the girl wouldn't be able to sustain the energy required for skiing for very long, and the Captain intended to make the most of the peace and quiet. She collected a book from her room along with a soft yet waterproof blanket and, donning a thick jacket and a hat to combat the falling temperature she walked down to the lake, sitting where she had sat with Seven two nights previously. Janeway hadn't slept properly for weeks and soon she dozed off, the book falling to rest by her head.

She awoke suddenly, sensing a presence crouching next to her and feeling a light touch on her shoulder.

"The Doctor has prepared lunch, Captain," Seven informed Janeway, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. The Captain stood stiffly, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

"Hope it's something hot," remarked Janeway, smiling as she blew into her cupped hands.

She wasn't prepared for what happened next. Seven-of-Nine took Janeway's hands in her own, which felt warm and soft. After a long moment, the Captain freed her hands and the women moved closer together. Janeway clasped her arms around Seven's shoulders whilst the Borg circled her waist, pulling them closer. They kissed, softly at first then with more passion, Seven's lips parting to allow Janeway's tongue to dart into her mouth. The contact became rougher, more urgent, and Janeway slid her hands underneath the younger woman's blouse, running them over the soft, pale skin of Seven's back and shoulders. Janeway arched her head back, and recognising Janeway's wishes the Borg moved her mouth to Janeway's neck, kissing, licking, biting, and the Captain felt the familiar heat of arousal inside her start to build. She gasped, withdrawing from Seven's arms with reluctance.

"We can't do this here, it's too cold and the others are waiting for us. But I want you, Seven." Janeway reached up and tenderly caressed the blonde's reddened cheek. "I'll suggest to the Doctor that he take Naomi to the village this afternoon. We can be alone."

Seven tipped her head to one side and smiled. "I would like that, Kathryn."

Lunch was finished, a tasty, spicy, hot soup followed by a delicious fruit pie, and Janeway privately wondered if she could create an Emergency Catering Hologram on Voyager without offending Neelix. The plates had been cleared and the Doctor and Naomi waved goodbye as they strolled off towards the village.

"Well, Seven, it's just us," said Janeway, leaning on the back of a chair and meeting the blonde's eyes.

"Indeed," responded Seven. "Shall we proceed?"

Janeway laughed, provoking a frown from the Borg. "Let me…romance you, Seven," said the Captain, trailing her fingers along her friend's collarbone. She moved her hand to Seven's head, gently pulling the other woman towards her and kissing her lightly on the lips. Janeway's teasing fingers ran down the Borg's spine and she slipped under the fabric again, weaving circles on the warm skin. She placed tender kisses on Seven's neck and, keeping their bodies in contact, moved into her bedroom. Janeway, her lips finding Seven's once more, increased the tempo of her movements and the younger woman responded, kissing her harder and exploring the Captain's eager mouth with her tongue.

Unfastening Seven's shirt with one hand, she slipped it off, revealing the Borg's slender form and exquisite breasts. Janeway stepped back, admiring the perfect figure before her, then embraced Seven, inhaling her scent. She pushed the Borg down onto the bed and ran her hands around the firm breasts, finally reaching the erect nipples and nipping them gently. Seven gasped and Janeway continued, leaning down to share another passionate kiss. Slowly, Janeway's practised hands journeyed down Seven's body, loosening then sliding down her lover's trousers and removing them along with her underwear, leaving the Borg naked and exposed before her. Seven looked up, her expression a mixture of hunger and apprehension.

"I won't hurt you," whispered the Captain, massaging Seven's long legs, trying to slow down but longing to pleasure the beautiful woman for her first time. Janeway's long fingers toyed with the blonde curls between Seven's legs, and she heard a soft moan from Seven's throat. The Captain wasn't one to tease a lover, so, taking a deep breath, she found the centre of pleasure at the top of Seven's moist well and flicked it gently. The Borg let out a gasp, feeling the exquisite sensation for the first time and, breathing hard, she allowed Janeway to continue, putting her trust in the older woman.

With two fingers, Janeway massaged the small bump, keeping a rhythm which Seven's rocking hips matched, her moans louder and more urgent now. Janeway knew Seven was close to climaxing and she focused her eyes on the Borg's face, watching as the expression contorted with the pleasure that Janeway's fingers were providing. Then, as Janeway kept her tempo, circling the bundle of nerves, Seven orgasmed, her body bucking wildly and her mouth opening wide in a primal scream, then suddenly she flopped down onto the bed, her blonde head lolling to one side. Janeway stopped what she was doing and moved her hand quickly.

"Seven? Seven!" she said, feeling a strong pulse in her lover's neck. Satisfied that the younger woman was still alive and breathing, having simply fainted, she tenderly pushed a few strands of hair from Seven's face. 'Well, you've never managed that before, Kathryn,' she thought, smiling to herself. Janeway pushed herself up from the bed, covering the other woman's nakedness with a blanket and leaving Seven to recover. At the door, she turned and looked back.

"Next time, it's my turn," she said with a grin.


	4. Chapter 4

Janeway looked up from her book as she heard voices outside the cabin to see the Doctor enter, Naomi darting off towards the other cabin. Closing her book she was relieved that they had not returned a few minutes ago – though her door had been closed, log cabins were not known for their soundproofing.

"Back already, Doctor?" said Janeway, swigging coffee like it was going out of fashion.

"Ensign Wildman contacted Naomi, she is about to go off duty and wants her daughter to join her. Naomi has just gone to pack then she'll transport to Voyager. Where's Seven?"

"Asleep," replied the Captain shortly, her tone cutting off any remark that the Doctor might be about to make about Seven's need for sleep, or lack thereof. "See to it that she transports back ok, Doctor."

The EMH went to help Naomi, and Janeway turned as her bedroom door opened. Seven-of-Nine emerged, fully dressed, and stopped, framed by the doorway. Janeway smiled at her, the expression on the blonde's face unreadable.

"Hey, welcome back," greeted Janeway, "you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you. Are you…feeling okay?"

The Borg gave her characteristic inclination of her head. "I am…well, Captain. I want to thank you for introducing me to another aspect of humanity."

The Captain regarded her intently, searching her face for any hints of deeper emotions, but the Borg remained inscrutable. Janeway wanted to ask what she thought, how it felt, whether she still had concerns, how she felt about Janeway herself, but she couldn't find the words, and even if she could have phrased a question she wasn't sure that she would have asked it anyway. The situation felt awkward, and she was about to change the topic to something more innocent when Seven's comm badge beeped.

"Captain to all Voyager crew. Prepare for return to Voyager immediately. Transport will begin in five minutes. Chakotay out."

Janeway stared at the younger woman's comm badge, not quite believing her ears. Then, realising that her own badge had remained silent, she slapped it forcefully, forgetting it was pinned to her chest and grunting as the air was forced out of a lung.

"Janeway to Chakotay, what's going on? Beam me up, now!"

"Sorry, Captain, I want you to remain on the planet. We're receiving a distress call, and I want to attend with a full crew."

"Dammit, Chakotay-"

"Doctor's orders, Captain. We might be gone a day or two. I'll contact you every four hours to keep you updated. Is there anything you need before we leave orbit?"

Janeway thought for a moment. She had been reading about a Ventosan colony on a nearby 'M'-class moon which sounded worth a visit. "Can you have someone drop off a shuttlecraft for me? I want to do a little exploring."

"Of course. Chakotay out."

Seven-of-Nine had quickly collected her things and was standing by the door holding a pack. Janeway was silent as they waited, and finally Seven's badge beeped again.

"Shore leave group A, prepare for transport."

"Captain -" Seven's words were cut off as the transporter beam energised and she disappeared from sight. Janeway was alone, on a strange though friendly planet, her ship about to depart and her new lover with it. She revised the last thought to 'possible lover', remembering Seven's cool attitude just now. Tempted to simply go to bed, instead she dragged herself up, put on a coat and boots and snatched up a handful of Ventosan currency. Stepping outside she debated which way to go, eventually choosing the path that led to the village.

*************

"So there we were," slurred Janeway, "the array destroyed, surrounded by Kazon, Maquis fighters on my ship…that's how I stranded Voyager in the Delta Quadrant."

Swaying on her stool, Janeway raised a glass aloft, spilling half the contents. "Well done, Kathryn!" She downed the remainder of the bitter, colourless liquid, which was immediately replenished by one of the Ventosan men surrounding her.

"So what did you do with the Maquis?" asked a lanky, young man with the clothing of a farm labourer.

Janeway laughed. "I kept them on board. What else could I do? Oh, there were some – hic – problems at first, but they're my crew now. I love them, love them all…" she tailed off, taking another drink from her glass.

Another of the Ventosans stepped forward, this one short and stocky with dark, neatly-trimmed hair. "Is there a…Mr. Captain Kathryn Janeway?" he asked slyly, and the others laughed raucously.

Janeway held up an unsteady hand, shaking her head. Her normally immaculate hair was in tangles, her shirt awry and splashed with more than one type of drink. She had deactivated her comm badge and stuffed it into a pocket to stop people from pawing at it and she had no idea where her coat was.

"You know, Mr. Ventosan, I can't tell you," she answered, shrugging. "It's a little compi – hic – com-pli-cated." She peered at her glass again. "Captain's Log, stardate who-the-hell-cares, I appear to be out of a drink!"

***********

Janeway awoke, immediately groaning as a piercing headache shot through her skull. There was light shining through the curtained window, and she hauled herself up carefully, looking around. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she was back in her room in the cabin, and closed her eyes again.

"Computer, what time is it?" she muttered, knowing that she probably needed at least another couple of hours in bed before she could face the world.

"Seven forty-seven morning time," the Ventosan computer replied chirpily. The Captain, trying to ignore the pain that had now settled into a steady thumping in her head, climbed out of bed and, naked, walked across to the bathroom. Activating the sonic shower she stood in a daze for several minutes until the cycle was finished, then out of sheer force of will managed to pull on clean clothing.

As Janeway stepped outside she noticed something she had missed completely the previous night. The Delta Flyer stood off to the left of the cabins, her sleek hull gleaming brilliantly in the morning sun. 'Nice one, Chakotay,' she thought, amazed that he had elected to provide her with Voyager's newest, biggest and fastest shuttlecraft. She walked to the transport site and authorised transport to Dr. Berdan's office, only two minutes late.

The doctor looked up as she materialised and immediately his face wore a mask of concern. Though her clothes and hair were clean, Janeway had a dishevelled appearance, with dark bags under her clouded eyes and a general air of the morning-after. She took her customary seat and leaned her head back, stretching her aching neck muscles.

"Kathryn, what have you been doing," asked Berdan quietly, covering her hands with his in a fatherly manner. Janeway shook her head, wincing as the movement set off another round of explosions in her head. Berdan injected her quickly, and before he had even asked he began to see visions created by Janeway. They were jumbled, but the doctor was experienced at decoding them. Janeway alone in the middle of nowhere. Voyager in trouble, exploding, imploding, fracturing. Seven-of-Nine, naked and clearly dead. The Captain in a bar, men crowding her. Janeway, holding a weapon to her head and pulling the trigger.

Tears coursed down the woman's cheeks but she was silent. Janeway had exhausted her capacity to fight the images she was seeing and simply sat, unmoving. Eventually Berdan pulled away and rose creakily to his feet, walking to a replicator. He brought back two steaming mugs; coffee for Janeway and a mild Ventosan tea for himself.

"Look at me, Kathryn," he said gently, and Janeway complied. "Whatever you might think, you are healing. You're not fighting your fears any more but embracing them. Now it's time for you to open yourself up to _my_ thoughts. But you have to actively intend and want to do that, for the injection not only strengthens your ability to send out your thoughts, it also increases your powers of telepathic resistance. Open your mind, Kathryn, and see my thoughts."

Berdan took her hands again and Janeway closed her eyes. She saw herself alone, then suddenly surrounded by her friends – Chakotay, Tuvok, Seven, Paris, Torres, Kim, the Doctor and more. She smiled a little at the sight of them as they laughed and joked. Then there was Voyager, whole, speeding through space at high warp, then Seven, still naked but very much alive, reaching out to touch her. Janeway tried to hold the image in her mind, seeing her friend's pale, beautiful form just as she had done in reality. She opened her eyes and looked at the Ventosan doctor.

"There's no instant cure, Kathryn, but this is a good start. I've implanted a suggestion in your mind that will help you to process your fears and negative thoughts into something that more closely approaches reality, or better than reality. When you feel you are about to lose control, draw on the strength inside you, use it. Tell me though, why did you hold that weapon to your head?"

Janeway shifted uncomfortably in her chair, looking away. "I hurt Seven-of-Nine, I don't remember it but there was blood on her collar," she answered finally.

"Describe her injury," prompted the doctor, leaning forward intently.

"I – I didn't see it. Our Doctor had already healed it." She smiled ruefully. "I suppose that's your point, isn't it?"

Berdan smiled back. Janeway was an intriguing patient, he thought, feeling just a little bit sorry for Voyager's Chief Medical Officer.

***************

It wasn't until Janeway had returned to the cabin that she realised she hadn't reactivated her comm badge. Not that it mattered; Voyager would be out of its range by now and Chakotay would no doubt have sent any communication to the computer console in the cabin. She sat in front of it, feeling decidedly more human than she had since she awoke earlier.

"Computer, display communications from Voyager," she ordered. A list came up immediately and Janeway shook her head. As promised, Chakotay had faithfully sent an update every four hours, and she skimmed to the last one, checking the time. She immediately sat up straighter, frowning. The last message had been sent at 05:02 Ventosan time, and it was now 09:38. Half an hour overdue for the next communication.

Janeway stood and paced around the room. Was half an hour enough for concern? Perhaps Chakotay was busy helping the senders of the distress call. The Captain shook her head, frustrated. It only takes a few seconds to transmit a "Still on course, everything fine" message. She made a decision, and if Chakotay didn't like it, tough luck.

"Computer, put a communication through to Voyager. I'm entering the subspace frequency now."

Several beeps later, the computer responded. "There is no reply on this frequency."

"Right then, transmit on all frequencies to USS Voyager. Message reads 'Janeway to Voyager. Please update status immediately'."

She waited another minute.

"Message transmitted. No reply."

She sat down and set her thoughts straight. There was, of course, only one plan of action.

"Captain Janeway to Commander Devas, urgent transmission."

Devas appeared on the screen, his friendly face inconsistent with the stiff uniform he wore. The Ventosan spoke first.

"I was about to contact you, Captain. We just received a distress call from Voyager. I need to speak with you immediately. May I transport you here?"

"Of course," Janeway managed, swallowing the lump in her throat. Distress call? She waited as the Ventosan transporter delivered her to the Commander's office. He was standing facing a large window occupying one wall of the room, and he turned as Janeway materialised.

"I think you should hear the communication first, Captain," he said without preamble. Janeway was glad of that; it was no time for small talk. She listened as the audio-only recording started to play and was shocked when Seven-of-Nine's voice sounded.

"USS Voyager to all ships in the area. We have intruders on board. The crew have been rendered unconscious by an unknown process. Mayday, repeat, Mayday, we are under attack. Please respond. We are under -" The words stopped, replaced by shouting and what sounded to Janeway like phaser fire, then the recording ended abruptly.

Janeway started to speak, but Devas cut her off. "Captain, we know who is responsible. This is a tactic of a renegade faction of a species called the Olari. They feign injury and damage to their small craft and, when taken aboard a larger ship offering assistance they subdue the crew telepathically. They have stolen hundreds of spacecraft. We…avoid them."

"Why don't you put a stop to it?" demanded Janeway. "You have a whole fleet at your command; you could easily defeat a small 'renegade faction'!"

Devas shook his head. "It's not that simple, Captain. We were at war with the Olari for many years. They invaded our colonies, killing the inhabitants and stealing whatever they can find. They are technological parasites; they aren't capable of designing their own ships, warp drives, weapons, so they steal them from others. They are technologically, tactically, morally and intellectually inferior to you and me, Captain, but we have no wish to start another war."

"What about diplomacy? Have you tried to negotiate with them?"

"Eventually that's what happened, but only after we had lost half our colonies. We fought hard, slowly starting to win battles, and in the end they agreed to withdraw. We paid a heavy price, Captain; we were forced to hand over several of our remaining colonies. They don't negotiate – they make demands and will settle for nothing less."

Janeway ran her hand through her hair, pausing to give herself time to think. She had the Delta Flyer, and if the Olari were technologically challenged it was certain that they would have difficulties controlling even Voyager's most basic systems. Since Seven had had the time to make a distress call she would have surely locked out Voyager's controls, and a Borg algorithm took time for even the best engineers to crack. If she could just get on board…but she would be affected like the rest of the crew. Unless she had some help.

"Commander, I have a shuttlecraft at my disposal. I'm confident that I can locate Voyager and get aboard undetected; however I will be vulnerable to the Olari's telepathy just like my crew. Is there any way to prevent me from being affected?"

The Ventosan smiled, turning and retrieving from his desk an instrument identical to the one Dr. Berdan had used on her each morning. "I thought you might ask that, Captain. This contains a chemical that, if taken in the large dose I have here, will ensure that your mind is protected against any unwanted telepathy. You will be able to withstand the Olari's telepathic assault and prevent them from sensing your thoughts."

He handed Janeway the instrument and Janeway thanked him, then smiled. "I don't suppose you can supply me with any personnel, or weapons?" she asked, pretty certain of what the answer would be. She was right.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but if Ventosan personnel or weapons were found to be involved, it would fuel the tensions between us and the Olari even more, possibly igniting a new conflict. I can't risk that. I do, however, have one more thing to offer you."

He tapped a console and a schematic of a piece of equipment appeared.

"This has been developed only recently, and the Olari aren't aware that it exists. It's a shield generator, of sorts, that will render a small vessel invisible to sensors and direct sight. It also masks the vessel's warp signature and, in the event of attack, will provide a high level of protection. It should be a simple matter to integrate it into your shuttle's systems. Your Captain Chakotay was kind enough to show me around Voyager," added Devas.

"Something tells me this comes with a large price tag," Janeway said, looking carefully at the screen.

"We would ask for the complete contents of Voyager's cultural database, your holodeck technology and samples of certain food items that we have found…interesting. Is that acceptable?"

Janeway was amused. How many times had she said no to trading weapons, warp and vital systems technology and offered those very things instead? She agreed instantly and, with quick goodbyes and wishes of good luck, she was transported to the cabin.


	5. Chapter 5

It was almost an hour later before the cloaking shield generator was installed in the Delta Flyer. Janeway watched as the Ventosan engineers worked, asked questions, and by the end she was reasonably sure that she would be able to use it without any problems. Fixing it if something went wrong was another matter entirely, but the Captain knew that she must take the risk. After a quick pre-flight check she bade goodbye to the Ventosans and took off, punching through the planet's atmosphere and out into open space.

"Computer, set course for Voyager's last known co-ordinates and engage, Warp 9." Janeway sat still for a few minutes, then turned to reach into her hastily-packed bag, withdrawing the phaser that Seven-of-Nine had disabled. Using a tool kit from the Flyer she dismantled the weapon, attempting to locate the problem.

"Aha," she murmured, poking at a set of relays. She had found it; one of the relays had been removed. It would be a simple matter to replace it from the selection of spare parts carried on board the shuttlecraft, but Janeway hesitated, holding the phaser in her hands. She slowly turned it to point towards her chest, remembering how she had felt when she had come so close to using it, and the Captain started shaking.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no, not now, not now!" She flung the weapon away from her and it crashed against a bulkhead, pieces breaking apart. Janeway's head fell to her knees and she clasped her hands around her head, willing the sights and sounds to stop. It lasted less than a minute, but the intensity of the feelings left Janeway disoriented and gasping for breath. Fighting these, she cleared her throat.

"Computer, scan for ships in the area."

_One vessel detected. USS Voyager, bearing 121 mark 3._

"Heading and tactical status," demanded Janeway.

_USS Voyager is at full stop. Weapons and shields are off line._

Janeway brace herself for the next question. "Scan for life signs and identify."

_Life signs detected. 152 human, 1 hologram, 68 unidentified alien._

She felt a weight suddenly lift from her heart. The crew were all present and alive. It seemed that what she had heard so far still applied; Seven had said that the crew had been rendered unconscious, but mentioned no injuries. Devas had told her that the Olari use telepathy to subdue the crews of hijacked vessels. Janeway checked the display in front of her. She should intercept Voyager in approximately one hour. They must have been circling around trying to locate the distress signal, for the ship was much closer than the Captain had expected.

_Tactical alert. Two vessels detected on an intercept course. Time to intercept, one hour twenty-two minutes._

"Damn," said Janeway. Though she did not recognise the ships she surmised that they must be renegade Olari reinforcements. With Voyager fully manned, the smaller vessels posed no threat, but as it was she would need to retake Voyager before the ships arrived. Standing up and pacing around the shuttle, she began to think.

_Need a plan, Kathryn. Cloak the Delta Flyer, sneak up on Voyager. No shields, easy, use the shuttle's transporter to beam aboard. The crew are asleep. Can you wake them? No. Synthesising enough of the telepathic inhibitor would take too long, and you can hardly wander around with a hypospray with 68 Olari on board. _

_What about Seven? She was alive, and had been unaffected by the telepathy, so where would they have taken her? The only place a former Borg drone could be kept securely was the brig, and even there probably not for long. They may have hurt her, tortured her for the decryption code, mutilated her and ripped – _

Janeway slapped herself, hard. She couldn't afford to have her mind wander; she had to keep her objectivity and reasoning intact.

_You could beam to Cargo Bay 2. No reason any aliens should be in there. Grab a weapon from storage. Head to the brig via the Jefferies tubes, rescue Seven, then…retake the ship. Somehow. In fewer than twenty minutes._

"Well, that's a start," said Janeway with a wry grin. The next three-quarters of an hour were tense, the Captain constantly dreaming up rescue scenarios, examining them then discarding them for one reason or another. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the Ventosan injection implement and dosed herself with the protective chemical, then waited, constantly scanning for any additional threats, as if what she was facing wasn't already enough.

****************

The cloaked Delta Flyer approached Voyager from her port side and Janeway came to a stop one thousand kilometres off the larger ship's hull. Securing the shuttle's controls, she rose from the pilot's chair and stepped into the centre of the shuttle.

"Computer, one to beam to Cargo Bay Two." She took a deep breath. "Energise."

The Captain materialised in the large, thankfully unoccupied room. Glancing at the Borg regeneration unit she saw that it was empty, and made straight for a storage compartment in one corner of the shuttle bay. Grabbing a compression phaser rifle she pulled open a hatch leading to the ship-wide network of Jefferies tubes and hauled herself inside, slinging the rifle's strap over her shoulder. Janeway had set a tricorder to count down the minutes until the two Olari ships would intercept Voyager, and already it was down to nineteen minutes. She crawled as fast as she could through the narrow, low passages, ignoring the pain she felt as her knees and hands pounded on the metal floor.

There were no incidents along the way, but she had to backtrack and change her route several times to avoid the Olari that her tricorder detected. Finally she reached the exit hatch which opened behind the security station in the brig. Janeway paused, breathing hard from the exertion, and consulted her tricorder again. Eight minutes remained. Scanning for life signs, she detected one alien on the other side of the hatch.

Unslinging the heavy rifle, the Captain eased the hatch cover open and peered out, catching sight of a pair of thick legs clothed in blue material but with large, hairy feet uncovered and thankfully pointing away from her. Janeway slid out of the Jefferies tube and sneaked up behind the alien. Rather than risk firing the weapon she reversed it and with all her considerable strength slammed the butt into the back of the Olari's head where it met the short neck. The alien collapsed soundlessly and Janeway stepped over him without a glance.

Seven-of-Nine, bruised, burned and bleeding, lay slumped in a corner of the brig. Janeway quickly tapped buttons on the console, deactivated the force field and ran to her friend. Shaking her none too gently by the shoulder, she whispered Seven's name urgently. The Borg stirred, opening her eyes. Janeway hauled the younger woman to her feet. Seven started to speak but the Captain cut her off.

"There's no time. I have a plan," said Janeway. Seven minutes showed on the tricorder display.

"Computer, initiate self-destruct," ordered the Captain.

_Unable to comply. Level nine authorisation required._

"But I do have-" Janeway stopped, realisation dawning. When she had been relieved of duty her command codes would have been deactivated. About to turn to Seven-of-Nine, she paused; the Borg woman did not have the necessary clearance to engage the self-destruct. Desperately, Janeway slapped her comm badge.

"Janeway to the Doctor. Use your medical authority and restore my command authorisation."

There was an agonising pause before the Doctor's voice responded. When it did, Janeway's heart sank. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Captain. You are still unfit for duty."

Janeway slammed her hand down on the console in frustration. "Doctor, this ship and the lives of her crew are at stake. Restore my authorisation!"

"I'm sorry, Captain."

Six minutes remained until the Olari reinforcements arrived. Janeway's anger boiled and she swallowed it furiously. There was no time to argue, there had to be another way.

"Doctor, can you transfer all command authorisation to Seven-of-Nine's codes?" she demanded of her Chief Medical Officer.

"Yes, but I am the highest ranking officer on board Voy-"

"You're a doctor, not a commando!" she shouted, "Transfer the command authorisation to Seven NOW!"

A moment passed, then the hologram's voice sounded again. "Done, Captain."

Janeway turned to Seven. "Activate the emergency self-destruct, set for three minutes, with audio warnings every thirty seconds."

"I cannot allow you to destroy Voyager," the Borg replied, looking into Janeway's eyes. The older woman took Seven by the shoulders.

"We can save Voyager, but you have to trust me. I can't order you to do this. It's in your hands, Seven."

The women's eyes locked, and Janeway willed the blonde to do as she asked. She could've kissed her there and then when Seven spoke again.

"Computer, activate self-destruct, authorisation Seven-of-Nine omega three two. Set for three minutes and give audio warnings every thirty seconds."

_Acknowledged. Self-destruct activated._

Janeway turned to her friend, her lover. "Transport yourself to the Delta Flyer, at these co-ordinates," she ordered, tapping numbers into the console. Seven inclined her head.

"No. I wish to remain here."

"Seven, I order you to-"

"You cannot give me an order. I will not comply. However…Computer," the Borg continued, looking directly at Janeway, "Transport Naomi Wildman, Ensign Wildman and Neelix to the co-ordinates just entered. Energise."

Janeway's heart melted at hearing Seven's command and she had to quickly wipe tears from the corners her eyes. "Now transport us to the bridge. Let's get this over with."

"Computer, activate site-to-site transport, authorisation Seven-of-Nine pi delta. Two to beam to the bridge. Energise."

*************

There were half a dozen Olari soldiers on the bridge in a state of panic, shouting, but they all fell silent as Janeway and Seven-of-Nine appeared. Several of them raised weapons, including the one who appeared to be the leader, having commandeered the Captain's chair.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that, if I were you," said Janeway in a low voice, dripping with menace. She stepped down on to the main floor of the bridge.

"Who are you?" snarled the Olari, showing a row of pointed, stained teeth. Janeway took a step forward.

"I'm your worst nightmare," oozed the Captain's voice. "As you can hear, I've set Voyager to self-destruct."

_Self-destruct in two minutes._

"You won't do it," huffed the soldier, waving a hand dismissively. One of his men spoke, roughly pushing Seven-of-Nine forward.

"_This_ one believes that she will," rasped the telepathic Olari, causing his leader to snap his head around to face Janeway again.

"Damn right I will," snarled Janeway. "You've hijacked my ship, compromised my crew; I don't negotiate with terrorists. Now, I am not in the best of moods right now; you've picked the wrong day to mess with me-"

_Self-destruct in one minute thirty seconds_

"-so I suggest, if you and your men don't wish to be vaporised and have your atoms scattered throughout the sector," continued Janeway, stepping closer to the Olari leader and thrusting her face nose-to-nose with his, "you GET THE HELL OFF MY SHIP!"

The alien stepped back in shock, though even at her full height Janeway barely reached his shoulder. He growled and bared his teeth, then gestured to another soldier who raised a handheld device. The leader nodded and, scowling at the Captain, he and his men disappeared in orange beams.

"Captain, all the aliens have transported to their ship in shuttle bay one. They are leaving Voyager," Seven stated, scanning Voyager from the security station.

_Self-destruct in one minute._

"Shut it off," Janeway said softly, and the Borg did so.

"Shall we pursue the alien vessel?"

"No, Seven. Let them go."

Janeway was struggling. Her senses were overwhelmed, and as the unconscious crew began to revive, she collapsed in a heap in front of the Captain's chair.

************

"Well, Doctor, I've been given a clean bill of health," said Janeway, raising a glass and smiling. The hologram grimaced as Seven-of-Nine looked on in amusement.

"Captain, I want to apologise for my actions on Voyager, it was just-"

"No need, Doctor. You were only following protocol. After all, I might have, oh, I don't know - tried to blow up the ship or something," chuckled Janeway, patting the Doctor's arm.

"Very amusing," he replied sardonically. "Well, I'd better get back to Voyager. Last night of shore leave's always a busy time for a ship's doctor."

He stood and faced Captain Janeway, nodding once, then left the cabin. Janeway looked at the Borg, swirling wine around in the glass her long fingers circled. They held each other's gaze and said nothing for a long time, then slowly Seven-of-Nine rose and held out a hand, which Janeway took with her free arm, placing her drink down on the table. Seven pulled her up and drew Janeway close.

"I wish to…romance you, Captain," whispered the younger woman, folding her arms around Janeway and kissing her softly on the lips.

"I won't argue with that," murmured the Captain as Seven led her into Janeway's room.

The Borg undressed the older woman, kissing and touching her as she did so. Janeway remained passive, her skin tingling where Seven's hands and lips made contact. She ran her hands through the silky blonde hair as Seven's tongue flicked each of her nipples in turn, causing them to harden instantly. Janeway was naked now and she backed towards the bed whilst the two women kissed passionately.

Gently, Seven-of-Nine pushed the Captain down, her hands massaging the pale skin of Janeway's firm breasts and stomach. Janeway inhaled sharply as the exploring fingers found her centre of pleasure and began to stimulate her, mimicking Janeway's actions the last time they had made love. Long fingers circled the small bump, wet with the Captain's arousal, and a moan caught in Janeway's throat. Seven trailed kisses down her neck and gently bit her shoulder whilst her hand continued to move against Janeway.

Gasping now and thrusting against the Borg's hand, the Captain felt herself approaching orgasm and let out a whimper. Still caressing the bundle of nerves in a steady rhythm, Seven-of-Nine gently pushed a finger inside Janeway, curling it upwards and sliding in and out, matching the tempo of her other hand. This pushed the older woman over the edge and she climaxed explosively, her limbs juddering as she whispered Seven's name over and over. Finally still, Janeway lay exposed as the younger woman wrapped her arms around her and pulled her tight, their lips meeting once again.

"Wow, Seven. That was…amazing," Janeway murmured when she had regained her breath. She turned on her side and propped her head on her elbow, facing the Borg. "So, what's next?"

The possibilities were endless; the night young.

THE END

**Author's Note**

**I hope you enjoyed this story, my first J/7 fanfiction. It might also be my last. **

**I greatly admire Kate Mulgrew, for giving us the Janeway we know and love and for all her other achievements. But her views on stories such as these are well-known, and whilst I do not agree with Kate's opinions on such 'pornography' (and many other issues) I remind myself of one thing. **

**Whilst I am writing about **_**Kathryn Janeway's**_** feelings, actions and character, it is **_**Kate Mulgrew's**_** body that we picture. She would never accept a role that directly opposes her principles, and I am somewhat reluctant therefore to write further such stories for Janeway. I'll give it some thought.**

**Thanks for reading, all reviews greatly appreciated.**


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